


think Savior

by Imperator_Lexa (graciepants)



Category: Mad Max Series (Movies)
Genre: Backstory, Eventual Smut, F/F, Femslash, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Past Rape/Non-con
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-10
Updated: 2015-06-27
Packaged: 2018-04-04 13:34:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4139517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/graciepants/pseuds/Imperator_Lexa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Furiosa has all but lost hope of ever escaping Immortan Joe's reign. Then she meets Splendid Angharad, who rekindles her dreams of escape and revenge. For the first time in years, Furiosa feels something besides hatred and resignation. Could it be hope for redemption? Or even love?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. hidden places

**Author's Note:**

> notes at the end!

Furiosa sat in her quarters, exhausted from the day’s raid. The sand-blasted desert had clogged up her rifle and her mechanical arm. Her own face and flesh arm felt raw, flayed by sand and wearied by her battles. She tended to her weapons before herself, oiling down the gun with aching hands.

A knock came on her door. Strange, at this hour.

“Imperator Furiosa,” Miss Giddy said, walking in after a hunched little bow. Furiosa remembered the tattooed crone from long ago.

“What’s your business, Miss Giddy?” she said. She felt a husk of smile appear on her face. When Furiosa first arrived at the Citadel, Miss Giddy convinced Immortan that she was infertile and thus was useless as a sex slave. Favors like that were rare at the Citadel. It had been one of the only blessings she was afforded.

“I remember when you were first here, a little spitfire,” she said as she toddled in on black-inked legs. “Joe gave you his worst, but you survived. And look at you now. Imperator.”

“It’s nothing to be proud of,” Furiosa said.

“You survived,” Miss Giddy said. “Much longer than any of the other wives from your batch.” She paused a moment, searched her face. “You should come to them, Imperator. To help. Angharad has become desolate.”

“To his Wives? Joe wouldn’t like that.”

“No,” Giddy said. Her weathered face showed no fear. “I’ll get you in at a safe time. I have nothing to fear from Joe.”

News of disobedience was punished by a swift drop from the Citadel’s floors. By visiting the Wives, Furiosa would be disrespecting the Immortans most closely guarded treasures. Miss Giddy was taking a risk, gambling that Furiosa wouldn’t rat them out to Immortan Joe. That Furiosa’s hatred for the Immortan still festered hot in her breast. That three thousand days of servitude hadn’t dulled her desire for revenge.

Furiosa laid her gun across her lap.

“When should I come?” she asked.

 

Furiosa came to the vault late at night, while Immortan was down at the Organic Mechanic’s for a tune-up. The Wive’s vault had changed since her temporary stay there. A pool of water trickled in the middle of it, along with other unimaginable luxuries: a bookshelf, a piano, a glass window.  

“Imperator Furiosa,” said a woman who could only be the Splendid Angharad. Furiosa had seen her before, when Immortan brought her to the Citadel after trading her for Aquacola. She was younger then, meek and untouched, barely a woman. Now she had a belly swollen with child.

She stepped forward and looked at Furiosa with awe. The moonlight threw her face into sharp relief. A fine criss-cross of scars etched across her cheeks and forehead. A few of them were still red and scabbed. They looked strange on her milk-white skin. She had barely been exposed to sunlight, let alone combat, which meant they were self-inflicted. Immortan wouldn’t like that kind of small rebellion. His property damaged.

“Giddy told us about you,” she said, looking at Furiosa with wonder, taking in her mechanical arm, her shorn hair, the bruises and scrapes from battle. “The woman Imperator. She knew about you.”  

“She knew me from long ago,” Furiosa said. “Immortan kept me here once. I was a wife like you.”

“How strong you must have been,” Splendid said, touching the leather of Furiosa’s harness shyly.  “Will you sit down?”

Angharad indicated a seat below the window and settled down next to Furiosa. “How did you survive? How did you escape?”

“I had to prove myself. I killed the warboys he sent to dispose of me. After he found out I was infertile.” Furiosa remembered  her childhood: sparring with Valkyrie, Katie Concannen instructing them how to disable an enemy. “I was brought up a warrior,” she said. “At The Green Place. Of Many Mothers.” Furiosa hadn’t said those words out loud in ages.

“I will be a mother soon,” Angharad said, her full lips curled in disdain. “A warlord’s child.”

“This is not a good place for mothers,” Furiosa said. She remembered her own mother. When they were both taken, she tried to protect her daughter. They smashed her once- proud head in against the Citadel floor.

“It’s not right.”

Furiosa felt the prickle of Immortan’s brand on the back of her neck. “He sees you as his property. He can do what he wants with you.”

“We are not things, Furiosa.” Splendid said, her eyes flashing. “We want to escape. Before I have my baby. Before Cheedo is broken.”  

“How do you expect to do that?” Furiosa said. She looked off past the vault’s glass ceiling, towards the cold stars beyond.

“I thought you could help us, Furiosa. Don’t you want to escape him too?” She took Furiosa’s hand in both of hers and pressed it between her soft palms. More scars laced her inner arms.

Furiosa opened her mouth, shocked by the sudden softness of Angharad’s hands. No one had touched her without the intention of inflicting pain.

“I’ll throw myself off the Citadel before I allow him to have my child.”

She imagined his fury and humiliation at the loss of his treasures. A war rig, his Imperator, and his five breeding wives, all lost. The humiliation would kill him.

And then there was this unearthly creature who held her hand in the moonlight.

For the longest time, her only instinct had been to survive. Now, a green future beckoned from the wasteland.

“I can take you.”

Angharad smiled beatifically.

“I knew you would. I knew it. Thank you, Furiosa.”

“It will be hard,” Furiosa said, turning away from Angharad’s poignant smile. “But I have the War Rig and Immortan’s trust. The next supply run to gastown will be the best chance we can get.”

“Thank you, Furiosa” she said. Agharad leaned forward and kissed Furiosa on the lips. A chaste, thank you kiss. Furiosa felt the warmth of the kiss on her lips, lingering and burning like the touch of the sun.  Something deep in her unfurled towards the warmth, a green sprout fed by the light.

Angharad withdrew, her face aglow. “I want you to tell me more about the Green Place.”

**  
  
**

Furiosa’s lips burned. She began to feel lightheaded. She needed go, to collect herself.

“Another time, perhaps.” She rose, shifted the straps of her arm. Splendid’s face fell.

“Stay! Immortan won’t be back tonight.”

“It’s dangerous for me to be here without a reason.” Furiosa walked to the edge of the vault. Angharad followed with a patter of bare feet on the stone floor.

“Come back soon. Promise me. Miss Giddy will find a way.”

“I can’t promise anything,” Furiosa said. Angharad rounded in front of her and pressed her hands together.

“Please, Furiosa. Return and tell me about the green place. My sisters need hope.” She curled her arms around her belly. “I need hope,” she said, softer.

“Fine.” Furiosa’s reply came out overly gruff. “Fine. I’ll come during the Immortan’s next maintenance. If I can.”

“Thank you, Angharad said. She kissed Furiosa once more, on cheek. Furiosa supposed this was normal for the wives, a form of greeting. She glanced back at her through the vault door as she closed it. Angharad gazed at the stars as if she could almost touch them, gather their chrome to her.

 

The next morning, Furiosa reported to Immortan’s war chamber. Immortan was surveying the throngs below from the Citadel overlook. He looked almost mediocre as he leaned on the rock sill, sweat and white paint beading on his blistered back beneath its plastic shell. The breathing came heavy. Rictus stood beside him, asking him something in his deep child’s voice. His oxygen tank hung on his gigantic shoulders, a reminder of his half-life.

Old Immortan and his stupid hulk of a son, surveying the thirsty throngs below. Enjoying their hard-won vantage from the top. She wondered what it felt like to be so powerful. He had everything he needed but a healthy male heir, and that was on the way.

“Immortan,” Furiosa said, standing at attention. Joe whipped his head around and scrutinized her with yellow eyes. The snarl of his face mask used to send a thrill of terror through her. Now another kind of burning filled her. Like she was full of guzzoline and had just sparked the combustion.

“Imperator Furiosa,” Immortan Joe boomed. “The Buzzards have been pushing into the edges of our territory. You will be on patrol today. If you find any of their vehicles within a mile of our territory, destroy them. Send a warning to the others.”

“Yes, Immortan,” Furiosa said. “I’ll need some war boys.”

“I’ll send you with twenty,” Joe said. “I don’t want the Buzzards causing any distractions on next week’s trip to the Bullet Farm.”

“Get lots more more ammo for my chain gun,” Rictus said. He grinned wide through his latex face mask. “I’ll blow away anyone who comes near Dad. And my new baby brother, once he’s born.” Rictus mimed cranking the gigantic gun that topped his vehicle, imitating the rat-a-tat of the gun’s sound with pleasure.

“Alright, Rictus. That’s enough,” Immortan said, with a hint of indulgence. “Imperator, go.”

Furiosa mounted the War Rig like usual, but her mind was full of calcuations. The best route to the green place would be through Rock Riders territory. They never ventured out, but the motorcyclists were dangerous in their own territory. They could slow her down, cut her breaks or worse if she didn’t make some sort of plan.  She could trade them some guzzoline in exchange for allowing the War Rig through their treacherous canyon pass.

The Ace, her gruff old second in command, climbed up on her window to interrupt her thoughts. “What’s the orders today, boss?” he asked.

“We’re on patrol against Buzzards.” Furiosa paused. “And I have special orders from Immortan. I’ll need a motorbike for a breakaway mission. You’ll drive the rig while I’m gone.”

The Ace nodded with his tumor-choked neck and climbed back along the war rig, shouting along her orders. The War Boys clamoured at the promise of violence to come.Their chants rang out as War Rig and auxiliary backup careened off into the wasteland.

We are War Boys!

Fukushima Kama-Crazy War Boys!

Today we’re defending the border!

Today we’re picking off Buzzards!

 

The War Rig’s twin V8 engines roared beneath her. Reassured by the grip of her flesh hand on her wire-worked wheel, she felt her brain shift into full gear. Her mission was clear, as always. Meet the objective, survive. Except that this time, she was on her own orders, not Immortan’s.

The Ace had followed her orders rolled up beside her cabin with another Warboy on a souped-up dirt bike. Furiosa shouted down to him, “Continute to patrol the border. If you see any Buzzards within eyeshot, attack. Otherwise, drive steady til I get back.”

The Ace had no reason to doubt her. In their many missions, she had saved his life once or twice, and he the same for her. Theirr relationship was good. respectful. She felt a slight twinge at betraying her second in command, but didn’t let it distract her.

She pulled the Ace up into the cabin and then switched seats with the War Boy on the bike. A motorcycle on a detour wouldn’t attract the attention of the Citadel as long as the main party stayed on track.

“Special orders from the Immortan?” the War Boy asked eagerly. “What’s the mission?”

“Your mission is to get off my bike,” Furiosa said. “Now.” Or I’ll have to kill you once you get to the valley. Your choice.

The warboy groaned but swung himself off the bike. Furiosa was relieved. If the Rock Jumpers didn’t kill him when they entered the canyon, she would have had to.  Besides, if the warboy wanted to make it to Valhalla in glory, he was better off waiting til she left with the wives. Then he would really see some shiny action.

 


	2. she brings the light

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Furiosa gets to know the sisters some more. Especially Angharad.

Furiosa returned to the Citadel revving with the success of her mission. All the War Boys intact. Two Buzzards taken down, too. And most important: a secret deal brokered with the Rock Jumpers. Passage through their canyons, plus their assistance in escaping any persuit vehicles, in return for a 5000 gallon fuel pod of guzzoline. She’d lied about the wives, of course. If the Rock Jumper chief knew that the Rig was carrying Immortan’s best possessions, he wouldnt have found the deal so shiny.

 

Furiosa found herself greeted by all five wives when she returned to the vault that night.

“You came back,” Angharad said. “I knew you would.”

“Who is this gaunt interloper?” asked one of the wives, a moon-faced woman with long white hair. “A new torment sent from old Joe?”

“It’s the Imperator,” said a red-haired girl. “Like Angharad said.”

“She looks just like Immortan’s boys.” asked another with short-cropped hair. She paced closer to Furiosa, her body tense and warry. “I don’t trust her.”

“Angharad, I’m scared,” said another, young and shrinking into the steps.

“I need to talk to you all,” Furiosa said, loud. All heads turned. “I made a deal today. To help us get out of here. You have to be ready as soon as I come to get you. If you hesitate, you’ll get us all killed.”

“Where are we going?” asked the red-haired one.

“Why do we have to leave?”

“Angharad, who is she?”

Questions flew through the air. Furiosa saw Miss Giddy looking on from behind the piano. Her face wore a mix of concern and amusement. Angharad got up and stood beside Furiosa, at the door. She raised her voice.

“Sisters! We have to listen to her. She’s going to help us, alright?” She turned to Furiosa and said, “I trust her.”

A natural leader, Furiosa noticed. She also noticed the closeness of Angharad’s body to her own, and the shivering breath that Angharad took as she leaned in.

“Furiosa, this is the Dag,” she said, indicating the white-haired girl. “This is is Capable-” the red-haired one smiled “And Toast the Knowing-” she got a curt little nod from the brown-skinned girl “-and here is Cheedo the Fragile. Come out, Cheedo. She won’t hurt us.” Cheedo cautiously moved forward and grabbed onto Toast’s arm. The Dag came and put a protective arm around Cheedo.

“Angharad said you know of a real marquee green place,” said The Dag, her grey-green eyes wide. “I think it’s tricks. I think you are Betrüger.”

“Tell us about the Green Place, Furiosa,” she said. “Sit.” The sisters gathered around. Furiosa lowered herself down and sat beside Angharad.

“I was raised there. We were called the Vuvalini tribe of Many Mothers. They brought me up in the green place.” Furiosa felt strange saying the words out loud. It was like re-opening an old wound.

“How did you end up here?” asked Toast.

“My mother and I were out on a supply run. I was nineteen. Immortan Joe and his warboys picked us up.”

“Just like that?”

“If we had been with the rest of the Vuvalini, it would have been different. They would have shot him in an instant. But we were outnumbered.”

“Why did he want you?” Capable said.

“The same reason he wants all of you,” Furiosa said.

“A wife. Like us,” Toast said. “What happened? Didn’t provide him with enough babies? You must have escaped somehow.”

“She never escaped,” the Dag said. “She’s still right here, with us.”

“But she’s not like us. She’s a proud warrior,” said Capable.

“I had to fight to prove myself. It’s how I was raised,” Furiosa said. “All the women were warriors. My mother too, and me.”

“What happened to your mother?” Cheedo asked.

“Dead.”

Cheedo began to cry.

“I’d like to be a warrior,” Toast said. “Instead of a stupid breeder.”

“Perhaps the Vuvalini can teach you,” Angharad said, kindly.

 

Furiosa suddenly had a vision of the Wives in the Green Place, all together as they were now, but free. Was it possible?

Cheedo was rocking back and forth, chewing on a nail and hugging her knees tight together. She would never be able to shoot Buzzard off a moving vehicle, or cut a bullet out of her leg. They were all so soft, so dentable.

“Are there men there?” Toast the Knowing spat the question out.

“None like Immortan Joe,” Furiosa said. “Sometimes the women have men as lovers. But they are helpers, not tyrants. ”

“I don’t believe such a man is possible,” The Dag said. “Their schlangers make them crazy.”

“Perhaps there are ones who haven’t been taught cruelty,” said Capable.

The Wives had been protected from everything except the Immortan, Furiosa reminded herself. They suffered his sadistic whims more intimately than anyone else.  He had only grown more pustulous and horrid as he aged. And more desperate. He would not have been kind to them.

“Any man who came among our tribe and acted like he owned a woman would be punished,” she remembered. “I think I remember one man who tried to rape the3 Vuvalini healer. He thought she would be weak.”

“What happened to him?” asked Toast with a grin.

“We cut his calf-strings and bound his wrists and set him out as a warning for any others.”

Spendid shuddered and Cheedo gasped.

‘“Immortan slaps me around enough,” The Dag said. “D’you think you could do him like that for me, Furiosa?”

“We won’t become killers like him,” Splendid said. “We’re not like him. Miss Giddy taught us to be better. What did the ancient Wolf-woman say, Miss Giddy?”

“I am no bird, and no net ensnares me. I am a free human being with an independent will; which I will know exert to leave you,” Miss Giddy recited.

“A free human being with an independent will,” repeated Splendid. “Once we are free, there will be no more violence.”

“There’s no end to violence,” Furiosa said. “You can’t wish for that.”

“Oh, but that’s all you’ve known,” Splendid said. She leaned up against Furiosa and touched the tough skin of her neck brand. “Things can be different.”

 

Furiosa stayed long into the night without meaning to. The Wives talked animatedly to her, passionate about the idea of escape and emboldened by the darkness. After the moon had passed halfway across the sky, everyone but Furiosa and Miss Giddy were asleep. The girls fell asleep on each others shoulders, wrapped protectively in each others arms. Miss Giddy toddled around, rousing them to go sleepily to their beds.

Angharad had fallen asleep against Furiosa. The sisters all leaned on each other for comfort, kissing each others foreheads, lying in each others laps. As alien as these gestures were to Furiosa, they were obviously daily comforts for the women.

Only Angharad extended this casual intimacy to her. How trusting, how odd. The luxuriant mop of her long hair fell across Furiosa. She found herself stroking a few silken threads of it before she caught herself. What was she doing?

“I should go,” she said, and began to shift upward.

Miss Giddy smiled and began to walk over.  “Come to bed, Splendid. It’ll be no good for the baby if you sleep on the stone.”

Angharad’s eyes fluttered open and a sleepy awareness breached her peaceful face.

“Oh, no!” she said. “No. Miss Giddy, I will talk to Furiosa a while longer.” Miss Giddy nodded, smiled.

“Very well, darling heart,” she said as she shuffled off towards into the bedrooms of the girls.

“I need to go,” Furiosa said. “I need sleep for strength. So do you.”

“I can’t sleep when you are gone. And if you leave me, I won’t know when you’re going to return.” Angharad’s voice trembled. She rose up on one hand, suddenly wide awake. Her eyes were as blue and tempestuous as Joe’s waterfall.

“I”ll come when the moment is right,” Furiosa said. She stood up, adjusted her arm’s harness. “You will escape. Just not tonight.”

“I hate this vault,” Angharad said. Her voice was curiously flat. “I’ve been here for eleven years, at least. I can never come and go, like you.”

Angharad walked over to the vault door and pressed her forehead  and round belly against it. She scraped her right hand down the vault door, hard. Her pale nails made a peculiar sound scratching against the metal. It made Furiosa shiver. Angharad  let her hand drop by her side and looked over her shoulder. “I know I can’t go with you tonight.” She turned around, cocked her head to the side as she leaned against the vault door. “I am hungry for freedom, Furiosa. I can almost taste it.”

Angharad moved forward and ran both her fingers gently against the short crop of Furiosa’s hair. A deep pang shot through her body and thrummed between her legs.

“Angharad,” Furiosa said, softly. “You shouldn’t.”

“I don’t belong to him,” she said. “I can do what I want.” Furiosa smelled the slight sweet musk of her skin. Beneath the white scars on her smooth forehead, her dilated pupils flickered to Furiosa’s lips.

Angharad pulled Furiosa forward  toward her gently. “I want to kiss you, Furiosa. But I won’t if you don’t want me to.” The soft puff of her breath tickled Furiosa’s lips. Her lips so close to hers a spark could jump between them.

Furiosa couldn’t find the will to resist again. Instead, she parted her lips and kissed Angharad as gently as she could. Angaharad made a low, soft noise in their throat and deepened their kiss. She gripped the leather belts of Furiosa’s harness and pulled her forward.

Furiosa was wrong to think of Angharad as soft. She was fierce and hungry. She was wild.

 

  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Furiosa's kissing skills are a little rusty, Angharad, be patient with her. 
> 
> next chapter is almost certainly going to be a smorgasboard of smut and feelings
> 
> god help me


	3. my love, I am the speed of sound

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Furiosa goes out to make preparations with the Rock Jumpers for her escape (not to mention to shake off the complex feelings brought off by Angharad's kiss)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> notes at the end

Furiosa’s lips burned. She began to feel lightheaded. She needed go, to collect herself.

“Another time, perhaps.” She rose, shifted the straps of her arm. Splendid’s face fell.

“Stay! Immortan won’t be back tonight.”

“It’s dangerous for me to be here without a reason.” Furiosa walked to the edge of the vault. Angharad followed with a patter of bare feet on the stone floor.

“Come back soon. Promise me. Miss Giddy will find a way.”

“I can’t promise anything,” Furiosa said. Angharad rounded in front of her and pressed her hands together.

“Please, Furiosa. Return and tell me about the green place. My sisters need hope.” She curled her arms around her belly. “I need hope,” she said, softer.

“Fine.” Furiosa’s reply came out overly gruff. “Fine. I’ll come during the Immortan’s next maintenance. If I can.”

“Thank you, Angharad said. She kissed Furiosa once more, on cheek. Furiosa supposed this was normal for the wives, a form of greeting. She glanced back at her through the vault door as she closed it. Angharad gazed at the stars as if she could almost touch them, gather their chrome to her.

* * *

 

 

The next morning, Furiosa reported to Immortan’s war chamber. Immortan was surveying the throngs below from the Citadel overlook. He looked almost mediocre as he leaned on the rock sill, sweat and white paint beading on his blistered back beneath its plastic shell. The breathing came heavy. Rictus stood beside him, asking him something in his deep child’s voice. His oxygen tank hung on his gigantic shoulders, a reminder of his half-life.

Old Immortan and his stupid hulk of a son, surveying the thirsty throngs below. Enjoying their hard-won vantage from the top. She wondered what it felt like to be so powerful. He had everything he needed but a healthy male heir, and that was on the way.

“Immortan,” Furiosa said, standing at attention. Joe whipped his head around and scrutinized her with yellow eyes. The snarl of his face mask used to send a thrill of terror through her. Now another kind of burning filled her. Like she was full of guzzoline and had just sparked the combustion.

“Imperator Furiosa,” Immortan Joe boomed. “The Buzzards have been pushing into the edges of our territory. You will be on patrol today. If you find any of their vehicles within a mile of our territory, destroy them. Send a warning to the others.”

“Yes, Immortan,” Furiosa said. “I’ll need some war boys.”

“I’ll send you with twenty,” Joe said. “I don’t want the Buzzards causing any distractions on next week’s trip to the Bullet Farm.”

“Get lots more more ammo for my chain gun,” Rictus said. He grinned wide through his latex face mask. “I’ll blow away anyone who comes near Dad. And my new baby brother, once he’s born.” Rictus mimed cranking the gigantic gun that topped his vehicle, imitating the rat-a-tat of the gun’s sound with pleasure.

“Alright, Rictus. That’s enough,” Immortan said, with a hint of indulgence. “Imperator, go.”

Furiosa mounted the War Rig like usual, but her mind was full of calcuations. The best route to the green place would be through Rock Riders territory. They never ventured out, but the motorcyclists were dangerous in their own territory. They could slow her down, cut her breaks or worse if she didn’t make some sort of plan.  She could trade them some guzzoline in exchange for allowing the War Rig through their treacherous canyon pass.

The Ace, her gruff old second in command, climbed up on her window to interrupt her thoughts. “What’s the orders today, boss?” he asked.

“We’re on patrol against Buzzards.” Furiosa paused. “And I have special orders from Immortan. I’ll need a motorbike for a breakaway mission. You’ll drive the rig while I’m gone.”

The Ace nodded with his tumor-choked neck and climbed back along the war rig, shouting along her orders. The War Boys clamoured at the promise of violence to come.Their chants rang out as War Rig and auxiliary backup careened off into the wasteland.

_We are War Boys!_

_Fukushima Kama-Crazy War Boys!_

_Today we’re defending the border!_

_Today we’re picking off Buzzards!_

 

The War Rig’s twin V8 engines roared beneath her. Reassured by the grip of her flesh hand on her wire-worked wheel, she felt her brain shift into full gear. Her mission was clear, as always. Meet the objective, survive. Except that this time, she was on her own orders, not Immortan’s.

The Ace had followed her orders rolled up beside her cabin with another Warboy on a souped-up dirt bike. Furiosa shouted down to him, “Continute to patrol the border. If you see any Buzzards within eyeshot, attack. Otherwise, drive steady til I get back.”

The Ace had no reason to doubt her. In their many missions, she had saved his life once or twice, and he the same for her. Theirr relationship was good. respectful. She felt a slight twinge at betraying her second in command, but didn’t let it distract her.

She pulled the Ace up into the cabin and then switched seats with the War Boy on the bike. A motorcycle on a detour wouldn’t attract the attention of the Citadel as long as the main party stayed on track.

“Special orders from the Immortan?” the War Boy asked eagerly. “What’s the mission?”

“Your mission is to get off my bike,” Furiosa said. “Now.” Or I’ll have to kill you once you get to the valley. Your choice.

The warboy groaned but swung himself off the bike. Furiosa was relieved. If the Rock Jumpers didn’t kill him when they entered the canyon, she would have had to.  Besides, if the warboy wanted to make it to Valhalla in glory, he was better off waiting til she left with the wives. Then he would really see some high-octane insanity.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> title is from This Tornado Loves You, by Neko Case, which is a very Furiosa-esque song


	4. the wife and the warrior

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Splendid Angharad and Furiosa take some time to get to know each other.

The Splendid Angharad kissed Furiosa desperately, as if she was water after two days in the wasteland. Furiosa felt the nip of teeth on her lip and moaned out loud. She grasped and pulled a handful of Angharad’s flaxen hair. Angharad leaned back to allow Furiosa to kiss the vulnerable skin of her throat.

Furiosa moved her hands over Angharad from the small of her waist to the curve of her belly to her breasts. The neckline of the white nightgown was easily pushed aside. Furiosa took her in, flicking her mouth over a nipple.

“I want to see you,” Angharad said, breathing hard now. She grappled with Furiosa’s shirt, frustrated by the harness of leather that thwarted her.

“Wait a minute,” Furiosa said, laughing at Angharad’s eagerness. She began to undo the straps of her prosthetic. It had been years since she let anyone see her without it, but Furiosa was inclined to let the glowing girl do whatever she wanted.

“Let me,” Angharad said. Furiosa played along, stood docile as Angharad delicately undid the shoulder buckle, then each of the waist belts on her harness.

Angharad caught the metal arm with both hands as it slid from Furiosa’s shoulders.  “Heavy,” she said with a gasp.

“It feels good to have it off.”

Furiosa leaned down to nuzzle Angharad’s nipples. Furiosa slid a finger over the cleft of Angharad’s legs and found her slick and wet. Angharad caught her breath and whimpered at the light contact. She traced her hand over Furiosa’s lean ass, reaching for the spot where her lust throbbed.

“Wait,” Furiosa said. Angharad’s hand hovered, uncertain, for a moment.

“Let me kiss you between your legs,” she said. Angharad’s eyes opened wide.

“I’ve never heard of that,” she said.

Furiosa kissed the smile from her lips. “Let me show you.” Furiosa teased her with another stroke of her fingers across the slickness between Angharad’s legs. Angharad gasped, then put her hand on Furiosa’s head, urging her downwards.

Furiosa knelt before her and hitched one leg over her shoulder. Her body remembered how to do this, somehow, all the way back from when she was a young woman. Furiosa kissed her thighs, traced the luscious lines of her waist and hips with her hand. She let her tongue glide tantalizingly over the cleft of her legs. Angharad’s fingers tightened on her shoulder.

“Oh, yes,” Angharad murmured. “Yes, yes- oh-” Her legs almost buckled when Furiosa finally traced her tongue over her swollen clit. Furiosa caught her under her ass with her arm, stood up, lifted her. She carried her over to an armchair below the window. Angharad toppled into it, spread her legs again, her head tossed back towards the night sky.

Furiosa knelt down in front of Angharad and licked her, taking in the sweet muskiness of her taste. When she felt Angharad’s thighs squeeze tight around her shoulders, she lifted her head and traced quick circles over her clit. Angharad curled her body inward and whimpered, “Oh, Furiosa, oh-” Her face contorted and then she moaned as the contractions of orgasm took her over.

She’s not seen a thing more beautiful since the green place.

 

 

Angharad breathed in deeply and smiled up at the stars. “You make love like a warrior,” she said.

The giddiness inside Furiosa trickled away, replaced by a sick dizziness like guzzoline fumes.

“A warrior,” she repeated dully.

Angharad touched Furiosa’s cheek and guided her gaze back up. Her fair face was flushed at the cheeks, her eyes smiling.

“I had never met a warrior women before you,” she said.

“You don’t know the things I’ve done,” Furiosa said. “To get where I am. To be the Imperator. The blood I shed.” She had crawled her way to the top of the Citadel on a pile of bodies. She didn’t deserve to have Angharad looking at her like that. Like she was something shiny.

“Furiosa, Furiosa,” Angharad said.  “Why are you like this?”

Furiosa crossed her arm over her chest.

“You don’t have to fuck me to earn your escape,” she said, softly. The thought had nagged her before. She could no longer push it away.

Angharad’s face fell. “Is that what you think I’m doing? Furiosa...” She planted a series of little soft kisses across Furiosa’s face.

“I don’t want to be like him. Using you when you can’t escape.”

“Using me.” Angharad’s brow furrowed. “Just because I’m in this cage, you think I can’t make my own choices?”

The sudden anger in her voice surprised Furiosa.  “I have been in captivity since before I first bled. They traded me to Immortan for a half tank of aquacola. I watched the others come here, one by one, The Dag and Capable and Toast and Cheedo, and I taught them how to please Joe so that he wouldn’t beat them to death or throw them off the Citadel.”

Her words came loud, fast, strained. “It’s been so ugly here. I had to watch all of them suffer. I couldn’t stop him.” She raked her fingernails over the scabs of cuts on her wrist. Little beads of blood sprung up and ran down her arm.

“Don’t do that,” Furiosa said. She touched Angharad on the hand. “It doesn’t hurt him when you hurt yourself.”

“I know,” Angharad said. “But it’s the only thing I have here that helps. They all depend on me.” She put her hand on Furiosa’s dust-stiffened knee. “I wanted to know what it’s like… to hold someone that I choose. Without being forced.” Her voice wavered. “I thought I’d never want to touch anyone again, after all he did.”

“I understand,” Furiosa said. Too well.

“But here you are. Strong, valiant.” She sighed and tilted her head, regarding Furiosa. “And so beautiful. I have never seen anyone like you, Furiosa.”

Beautiful. How strange to hear from this otherwordly woman. Even though she knew didn’t deserve it. Furiosa felt herself soften under Angharad’s warmth.

“Do you believe me?” she asked, drawing Furiosa’s face to hers, forehead to forehead. “I do not want you for what you can do for me. I want you for who you are. Please believe me.”

Furiosa managed to nod.  

Angharad kissed her on the mouth, cupping her face in both of her hands. Then she lay her golden head onto Furiosa’s lap and began to breathe evenly.

The weight of all the Wives, plus her own unborn child, all on Angharad’s head. How did she hold it all? And still manage to see some good in her ash-smeared soul?

Furiosa made a vow to herself. Oil-stained as she was, she would help them. She would make sure Angharad did not carry her sisters to freedom alone.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this took me FOREVER to write, for fuck's sake. i'm sorry. 
> 
> thank you to everyone who left me comments and encouragement. you're the reason i got my lazy ass to finish this today <3 <3 <3

**Author's Note:**

> title and summary quote are from Caitlyn Siehl, a wonderful poet.
> 
>  
> 
> I started this out as an experiment in a rarepair but ended up with a lot of Furiosa/Angharad emotions.


End file.
